


Correspondence

by AuseilOksana



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, M/M, Psychological Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuseilOksana/pseuds/AuseilOksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Alby's death, Newt is devastated. Devastated because he could do nothing to save him from the Grievers, devastated because he can never confess the feeling that flowed in his heart. </p><p>Now all that remains is a letter, but what Newt doesn't imagine is that its content could change his life and Minho's life forever. </p><p>"Minho, tell me that is a lie…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Klunk happens

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation. If you want to read the original one, please go to my profile and check it!  
> Thank you Igan95 for helping me with the translation.

It’s over, he was gone forever. Alby will not come back.

He ran the hands through his hair, skewering his nails into his skin on purpose in order to feel the physical pain through his nerve endings. Awakening, yes, he needed to wake up from that hell in which he had been involved moments ago.

He didn't even know what time it was, outside was dark and torches barely lit the hut’s interior. But light was not required. The clarity would come with the passing hours, with the beginning of a new day. It'd expose all the damage that those damned Grievers done in the Glade and with that, inevitably, the wound in his chest would burn even more.

“Alby’s gone, Alby’s gone” he murmured grinding his teeth as a result of disbelief and rage. “He won't come back. Alby is...”

Dead, he thought, but his lips wouldn’t obey him at all. He wouldn't force his body to do things he didn't want, or in this case, to say things didn’t wanted to. However, it was the only way he found to be convinced that yes, he had lived that moment, they all had lived it too.

He remembered. Alby being seized by the Grievers and disappearing through the shelter's aperture. His words addressed only to Thomas, to take out all of them to a safe place or some klunk like that… Why he said that to Thomas but not to him? Maybe Alby thought that he wasn’t a good leader, and seeing objectively his status, was right. Thomas was outside helping, while he was hiding himself in one of the few huts that resisted the attack.

Shuck.

He had left the Glade tasks undone, apologizing poorly about that. “I need to be alone for a while” he said, with his mouth dry and frowning, hence the people respected him without hesitation.

Maybe the others noticed about how much he cared for Alby. Maybe they knew about that occasion, weeks ago, when they both went into the woods… 

 

“Alby, Alby!”

The blonde barely followed the leader to the Glade, with the lump noticeably slowing his steps. He saw him going deeper and deeper into the woods, as if they were endless, as if they both were walking in circles. Then Alby suddenly stopped, almost getting crashed with Newt.

“I don’t see why you took me here. Maybe the Runners saw something in the Maze, didn’t they?” he said, while trying to recover his breath. “If so, bloody hell, we could talk near the boys, don’t you think?”

He smiled in order to show that his anger was not sincere, but his eyes did not reflect the same feel. Actually, he was worried about that sudden behavior change of the guy who was supposed to be the leader. He folded himself and putted his hands on the thighs to rest a while, breathing deeply in an attempt to purgate the pain of the lump.

Dammed leg.

“Newt”.

He raised his gaze and stepped back. Alby approached too close to his face, close enough that for one moment Newt perceived his smell mixed with sweat, disturbing completely his perception.

What the shuck was he doing? With his breath so… close, so tangible. Once again he bowed his head in order to recover his own senses.

Alby had no idea of those things got Newt stressed. With any other guy those things wouldn’t matter, but he was a special case.

Because Newt liked him.

“Why did you do that?...” he whispered, doing a smile immediately after that, with his nervous gaze wandering to all directions. Smiling was the only thing he could do to ignore that awkward moment. “There is something called personal sp…”

“Newt, look at me” he interrupted.

Swallowing his false smile, he obeyed.

His eyes commanded the silent order of seeing him at the same height as him, hence Newt stood up with his back very straight due to stress, making obvious their small difference of heights. Now instead of being the he the one who looked below, Alby was. The only sign of dominance he witnessed ever.

The only kind of authority that could have used against him. Because he liked to stay below his jurisdiction, only being his right hand and nothing more.  
He felt safe. And protection it’s a type of affection, right?

Right?

“Listen. I took you here because…” he doubted for a second. “I…”

His voice suddenly faded, but after a moment of awkward silence Alby took the floor again with renewed strength.

“Shuck my nerves” he turned his stare off only a few seconds before seeing him again, deeply, with his skin shining by the sun. “Newt, I think I like you.”

Yes, he remembered it so vividly that his pain became more unbearable than it already was. His eyes, his dammed eyes finally turned clear: he saw his soul beneath. All his fears, his nerves; everything was exposed on that moment.

Newt raised his hand and touched his own lips with his fingertips.

“Don’t joke, shank” he answered, with his heart beating with strength.

“So do you think I took you here only to fool around?” His eyes were still staring him directly, without trying to hide his true self.

Newt beheld his very soul. And a soul cannot lie.

He let him to approach more. He squeezed his fingers due to stress, dared to not look back at him again and kept his head down. His voice. He needed to hear Alby’s voice again once more and see that it wasn’t a joke.

“Newt…”

Reading his thoughts he did exactly what the blonde wanted, calling his name with a grave voice. Only that small gesture achieved to finally unveil Newt’s lips.

“If you speak truth, then” he said quickly, trying to stay stoic with low success, with the nerves invading him, with his body shaking, his perception turning blurry slowly, feeling himself fainting, with barely a break to answer what he really wanted from the very beginning. “I also… I also li…”

He did not have a chance to complete the phrase when felt his chin being raised by a stout hand, and then Newt felt the unexpected contact of Alby’s lips with his own lips.  
It was barely a small touch, with an improper softness of him. Newt did not even had a chance to react nor close his eyes when Alby stopped the contact, moving away centimeters from his face.

Then Newt saw him smile.

 

He wanted to shout but his throat didn’t let him. How could he have been so utterly stupid?!

After that kiss he didn’t know what to do, and due to the anxiety of the moment he did the opposite to what he really, passionately wanted to do. He escaped. He escaped when the only thing that he truly wanted to do in the whole world was to return the kiss with all the possible intensity, to fall into his chest and cry due to the twists of life.

But even now, he couldn’t cry because tears wouldn’t come out of his dry eyes; there wasn’t a way of relieving the pain. 

Sitting on the hut’s floor, he extended his leg, the one that had the limp. He’d probably have that mark for life, but even knowing that he didn’t cared at all; that limp made him remember his indelible connection to Alby. The day that he jumped…

A twisted smile appeared on Newt’s face.

“Newt?” Minho’s voice made Newt’s smile vanish into thin air, flooding him with angry thoughts. He wanted to be alone for just a bloody minute…

Of all persons on Earth, Minho’s presence was the least wanted. The issue with him was that Newt couldn’t kick him out of the hut, he couldn’t even talk with him and (bloody hell) he couldn’t even make eye contact with him. Pathetic.

“Being far away from the others won’t make him to come back” Minho said, without noticing the impact that his words had on the blonde guy. “Minho, keep your shuck mouth closed and go away” Newt thought, biting his lip with anxiousness, frowning without even noticing.

The real issue with Minho was that… he was special to him. That was the main reason behind his shyness on difficult situations like that one.

Recalling, after that day in the woods, he had had some awful days (nightmares included). He remembered the way that Alby tried to avoid him in a subtle manner, becoming suddenly busier than ever before and with that, having no time to have a simple conversation. He felt that Alby was purposely ignoring him, but he tried to shake off those thoughts and tried to convince himself that everything was ok. Alby was busier, that was everything.

Wrong.

Minho was the only person that noticed the slightly different mood of Newt, or at least that was what the blonde guy felt. Minho took care of him before the opening and after the closing of the doors, without asking anything about the cause of his change of mood, and accompanying him more than Alby. 

Even though he was a Runner he still managed to have free time to spend time with him. Newt was grateful.

But, the worst scenario came out when, weeks later, Alby finally had enough time to speak to Newt, inviting him again to the woods. 

“What I said you the other day… I was confused. Sorry” Alby’s voice crushed Newt as if were made of thin paper. “You’re lying, that’s a lie, a lie, a lie…” Newt thought in total despair, but he soon realized that Alby was completely sincere. And that hurt deeply.

He forced himself to crack a smile, in order to not have any other issue with Alby. If maintained his position of unrequited love, probably the distance would become higher, just like in the previous days. And no, that wouldn’t happen again if it was in his hands. Better to have an unrequited love than no friend at all.

It was fun in a certain way, that even when they were completely locked in the Glade, they could have spent perfectly days or weeks without seeing their faces, if Alby had wanted. That scenario was exactly the one that Newt wanted to avoid with all his might.

If past days were horrible, the ones that followed were a complete hell but because of an entirely different reason. His nightmares became even worst, to the point that he aroused the others in the middle of the night because of his screams. 

He slightly blushed when remembering those terrible days. How ridiculous, screaming for something that wasn’t even able to control, that wasn’t even real. That was the moment were Minho, without consulting anybody, claimed the hammock next to him. 

“I'll wake you if you start to shucking screaming again” he replied when Newt asked. 

And he kept his word, waking up Newt every night when he started screaming, making two radical changes on Newt. The first one was that fortunately his nightmares ended about a week after Minho’s move, maybe because having his sleep splitted in two was frankly annoying. 

The second change on him, unwanted and inopportune was…

“Newt, there’s a lot of work to do out there, get off your lazy ass and go” Minho’s voice echoed throughout the hut. Despite his hardness, Newt knew that Minho wasn't being rude. He just wanted to take him out of his self-absorption.

As if it wasn’t enough, he extended his hand to him to raise him from the ground, with the same look of false nuisance for his tardiness. And then, Newt felt clearly the effect that Minho had on him. 

“Come on, Newt…” He softened his voice finally showing his true self.

...Newt had begun to feel his heart beating for him.


	2. Addressee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading this story, hope you follow it until the final chapter <3

He did not accept the extended hand towards him. Why he pressed him so much? Couldn't he live his mourning for a while, in peace?

“Bloody hell, Minho, leave me alone” Newt said, looking him in the eyes without blinking, in a defiant way. He knew the true intentions of Minho (to make him responsible of the Glade now that Alby was gone), but at the same time he couldn’t stand it. Others could perfectly take over the Glade in a decent way, so there wasn’t a reason to be so worried. 

Furthermore, he felt useless, with no confidence at all. He wasn’t a good leader, he wasn’t good enough to be Alby’s successor. 

On the contrary, Minho…

“Go and take charge of the Glade” Newt frowned, in absence of Minho’s response. 

“Listen here you shank”, a chill went through his back when Minho replied, adopting a more severe approach than before. Newt felt a harsh shiver going down his spine in the very first moment that his ears heard Minho’s strict voice. “Also, you’re the only one crying in the corners instead of helping”.

“I haven’t even cried” Newt thought, with anger slowly increasing on his head. Minho definitely wanted to drive him crazy, didn’t he? 

“You should take over this place, after all you were Alby’s second-in-command, didn´t you? You should know how to handle a situation…”

“I wasn’t only his right hand!” Newt shouted, surprising even himself in the beginning, but then continued with renew strength. “I was more than that, I…, I…”

He went speechless. Then he tried to find the right phrase.

“I had something with him.” Newt thought. 

No, it would have been a complete and filthy lie to say it out loud. And if it were true, he wouldn’t be able to confess it anyways. Probably if the rest knew about it, they'd probably be uncomfortable in presence of a "faggot".

A pathetic “fag”.

Recalling, he knew that he was different from the others in that aspect since the very first moment. When he was rising from the box towards the Glade he felt shocked, claustrophobic, almost puking because of the intense fear of that place carrying him to nowhere. And when the superior gates opened from outside, even with all the panic that made his hair stand on end…

He felt relieved. Relieved due to Alby’s calm face, due to his grave voice granting him welcome, due to his stout figure that looked like a real shelter.

Yes, just in that very moment he realized that he was unlike the rest. Because the rest didn’t even have to think about that awful feeling of keeping silent about his thoughts or sensations, because the others didn’t have to think about potential discrimination. That frightful awareness of having to hide completely his words…

All that effort to fit with the others.

The rest had never had conversations about girls before (maybe because they didn't even know how a real teen girl looked like), but simultaneously they also never talked about boys. No one seemed to look themselves with different eyes, maybe due to fatigue, or maybe because they indeed had no interest in men at all.

But when Teresa arrived… “Bloody hell, they looked like animals in heat” he recalled, with a little trace of bitterness. Obviously nobody said anything in her presence, but when she was away… it was completely different. He heard them, while they were drunken thanks to Frypan’s grog, arguing about how the other girls would look. Of how they feverishly wished to leave the Glade, hoping to meet a girl who could fulfill all their personal parameters. He stayed away of the drunken madness as much as possibly like Minho did, but Alby joined the community, entirely forgetting his role as a leader.

Even with that improper uninhibited attitude, of the Alby he thought he knew; even with those comments that shattered his smile… Even so he never was able to close all the doors. The doors leading to his heart.

Until that day when Alby denied any chance with him.

“I… I was confused” Alby said, without hesitation, without realizing the pain that flooded through Newt’s heart.

What a klunk had it been, but even so Newt recovered quickly. He later ensured of destroying every fragment of attraction to him. And in later times when they both were recovering and beginning to be the same ones as before, just when Thomas arrived the Glade and was adapting very well to all of his tasks…

Why those Grievers had to take away Alby’s life just when everything was peaceful?! Making him remember his life due to a medicine…

Newt watched him facing that dreadful process, trying to stay calm. Why those shuckfaces made something so… so horrible to Alby?

Why?!

“Look Newt. I…” Minho’s voice broke the atmosphere that was surrounding Newt. 

He looked directly to Minho’s eyes, angry. Couldn’t he give some peace for a while? Why he had to be so stubborn?

“Minho, you better tell me something important, otherwise…” he answered sharply, in a colder way than he tried at first.

But the thing was that he wanted everyone to leave him alone. Even Minho. 

"Bloody hell, why it's so hard?" He thought, angry.

“It’s important” The rage vanished in an instant from Newt’s face. His voice ... was incredibly serious. And then he continued “I know about that… thing between you and Alby. I saw you both”.

“No…” Newt said and felt his extremities becoming paralyzed for a second, while his mind covered the blank walls of his consciousness with only one word

No. No. No.

He managed to drive his limbs to work again and after some troubles finally he stood, all the effort to turn his back from him.

“I dunno what you’re talking about” he muttered. His skin began to bristle.

“Shuck, don’t even try to play dumb” a pissed smile took shape on Minho’s face, with a little annoyed voice. “I saw you two… kissing”.

Newt sighed, while frowning, with all the fear marking his face like molten iron. Minho knew it all from the very beginning. Maybe that was the reason why he became aware of the spacing between them, maybe that was the reason of why he took care of Newt on his darkest hours.

Because he knew from the beginning that things between Alby and Newt had not worked. There was clearly the reason behind his sudden behavior change, of that sudden disposition of staying by his side at every moment.

Maybe he enjoyed seeing Newt down? Maybe he thought that, by helping him, he would reveal the real cause of his nightmares?

“Bloody hell, no…” Newt thought. Minho wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be like that. But, how to prove it?

“Minho, did you told someone?” he asked, without daring to turn, with scarce voice.

He closed his eyes with fury, frowning even more than normal, and embraced himself. It was supposed that nobody could knew of that day, of that damned day that he still felt torturing him within.

Why Alby had been so careless? 

If he would have been more careful, Minho would have not been able to see them. It all could have been buried inside his own memories, and nothing else. It all could have ended like a nightmare.

If it had happened on that way... Over the years he would have to wonder if anything had happened or whether it was a mere dream, a delusion product of his confinement on the Glade. When aging, even Alby could have joked about it, and finally with their deaths, the incident itself would pass away. A memory that would die with them both, without falling on nobody else.

But that might not be. They will never be able to laugh about it while aging... because Alby was already dead. Their bonds would never have a “forever”, because he no longer lived.

And that hurt. As if he was being stabbed with a sharpened knife. 

“No, I haven’t told anybody, who do you think am I?” Minho whispered while smoothing his voice, nearly making a laugh.

Newt prepared himself with all the courage he could muster and tried to look at his eyes, but couldn’t. Minho was suddenly blurry.

Actually, the whole room was blurry. 

“Newt…”

He touched the corner of his eyes with his own fingers. Tears founded. He wished to laugh due the irony, and then he desperately wished to vanish himself due to the embarrassment.

Until Minho came he couldn’t cry, his eyes were completely dry. Precisely he had hidden from everyone because he wanted to mourn in peace, without being spotted his emerging weakness; after all, he had become the leader since the moment Alby had left the physical realm.

And leaders don’t cry.

“You dragged me into this, bloody hell” he spitted, mumbling, while tears were stocking and flowing from his eyes. “I didn’t wanted…”

“I did not wanted to show you my own weakness” he thought. His words didn’t suffice and finally he accomplished what the desired from the beginning. He pushed aside Minho and quickly left, while cleaning with one hand any sign of pathetic tears.

He ignored those steps behind him. Ran, he ran to leave Minho behind. Why he had been able to crack him, as if he was a weak blade of grass?

Weak. He felt weak, weak like the day he heard Alby telling him that all was a confusion.

The same kind of weakness…

Even with the storm of his thoughts, he managed to keep his eyes and awareness on the road. Transiting through the furthermost places of the Glade, moving away from public observation. He didn't wanted to be disturbed ever again.

He wished deeply to never be found again by Minho, because if that happened… Minho could easily fully destroy him. 

Then an awful sensation went by all his back. A shiver.

If that happened, maybe Newt would have a worst shock than the day he tried to commit suicide. Because even then he wasn't able to cry more than a couple of tears, accepting somehow his fate and therefore, denying to follow his own destiny.

He remembered himself while was leaping from one the walls with the adrenaline flowing through his veins. And then an unexpected moment, just before of getting stamped to the floor, where he felt that everything was wrong. That terrifying feeling of that he mustn't have jumped.

In that very moment he saw a face showing in his memories. Only a face.

It was not the one that belonged to Alby.

It was Minho. His face.

Shaking his head in order to forget his past, he returned where Alby had been interned recently, with those Med-jacks watching his health with all their strength. Nobody was there, he had lost sight of Minho and the others hadn't noticed him either.

Serenity at last. But then he realized that his desire of crying had vanished into the air. It looked like his brain had dragged him to exhibit himself to being vulnerable just in front of the less suitable person, as if were some sort of conspiracy went against him.

A sabotage by himself, to himself.

But it didn't even matter anymore. What is done is done, and at least the pressure over his heart had eased a little. A small but necessary catharsis.

With softness he sat on the bed that Alby had occupied just a few hours ago. Even he could still feel the heat from his body there, entangled with its blankets.

He rubbed his eyes again. No, nothing would emerge from there, not even a single teardrop. His eyes were dry as usual. Then he slightly frowned before opening his eyes and stare at the floor.

He held his breath. There was something that seemed to be out of place, it was lying on the floor, showing only a portion of itself. He crouched and took it with his hands, with his heart beating chaotically when he touched the undisputed tact of paper.

His hands trembled while he held it directly in front of his eyes. A letter envelope.

“Alby…” Newt murmured. 

The envelope had a pristine white color, without any traces of either soil or damage. Perhaps he had secretly requested some paper to The Box? Newt had never seen a piece of paper that wasn’t yellow or brown. This was one so white… as if had just left the factory.

Perhaps since when he had it hidden?

A drop of sweat fell from his forehead, and he forced himself to breath normally to ease his nervous hands. Then he turned the envelope.

And there, scribbled with the distinctive writing of Alby, written quickly, with the high pressure of his pencil nearly piercing the thin envelope…

There were only two words.

“To Minho”.


End file.
